


Solivagant

by gloxinie, xelin



Series: Sonder [3]
Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 16:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16022093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloxinie/pseuds/gloxinie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xelin/pseuds/xelin
Summary: solivagant;(a.) wandering alone





	Solivagant

**Author's Note:**

> even more sonder plotline & worldbuilding we must truly hate ourselves huh  
> anyhow, these are literally just individually read sections of story that work sort of like prologues to sonder. they're not necessary to enjoy the original fic, but they give a ton of context to characters' backstories, for those that want it. hence, they have a ton of spoilers! i'll leave lil notes at the top of each story to show you at what point in sonder it is safe to read that specific chapter, so pay attention to those. some, but not all, will also deal with some heavy themes, so keep an eye on the warnings~  
> that said, enjoy!  
> hunt us down at @blackandbluemv and @gloxinie_
> 
> the following can be read after chapter 6.  
> no warnings necessary.

**Kim Byeongkwan | Age 19.**

“When’s your break?”

Byeongkwan looks up from where he’s ready to type in an order to frown at the guy leaning against the counter, casting a quick glance at the line-up of people behind him. It’s a busy day.

“Are you flirting with me? You know this is McDonald’s and not a bar, right?” he says, meeting the confused look of a fellow employee beside him.

“What, no!” the guy says far too quickly, lifting up his hands defensively. Byeongkwan registers the panic with silent suspicion.

“Well, now I’m just offended. I really shouldn’t tell you when my break is.” Another look at the line of people, which has only grown longer. A sigh of resignation. “But it’s in thirty minutes. Now please, just order something or stop holding up the line.”

 

“Good afternoon, random person whom I have never met before,” Byeongkwan says. Now that he’s no longer in the confines of his fast food prison, he can register the appearance of the man properly. He is taller than Byeongkwan and dressed like an art student you might see in Starbucks. In fact, he looks extremely nervous and uncomfortable with the current interaction. Particularly non-threatening, Byeongkwan decides.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Donghun,” he says, flipping his phone from his pocket. “I’m going to be honest, I need to discuss something sort of personal with you, so I was just going to ask for your number so we can meet up sometime.”

“You mean you don’t want to have a deep, personal discussion in the alley beside McDonald’s?” Byeongkwan raises an eyebrow. “And you’re really not helping the whole ‘not hitting on you’ case.” After a moment of thought, he takes out his own phone. If the guy turns out to be weird, he can just block the number, right?

“You’re not my type,” Donghun replies, opening his contacts and handing his phone to Byeongkwan, who copies his own number into a new contact. He saves it under ‘Byeongkwan’ with a little sparkle emoji on each side.

“Whatever,” he says whilst handing the phone back, noting the colourful Your Lie in April phone case. Definitely non-threatening. It isn’t until he exchanges parting words with Donghun that his brain kicks in.

“Excuse me? I’m  _ everyone’s _ type!”

 

“I have a lot to say,” Donghun warns, dropping into the seat opposite Byeongkwan with no advance warning. Byeongkwan jumps, and tries to cover it up as smoothly as possible despite the coffee he has spilled across the table. “So, ideally, I’d like to get some things out of the way nice and early.”

“This sounds dramatic. At this point, I kind of wish you  _ were  _ just hitting on me,” Byeongkwan replies, mopping up coffee with a patterned sleeve. He is beginning to notice a theme already, from Donghun’s turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up to the messenger bag slung over one shoulder. He has some sort of stylish dad aura.

“Sorry to let you down.” Donghun disappears to order coffee, and sits back down with an americano so bitter that Byeongkwan can feel the caffeine being absorbed through his skin from across the table. There is a heartbeat of silence.

“You have a power,” Donghun states, then pauses. Is this for some kind of dramatic effect or what? Byeongkwan blinks. Waits. He has sped to work once or twice when he was super late, but it’s not like he uses his power often.

“Thanks for telling me?” he says slowly, unsure of where this is going.

“I do too.”

“Oh? What is it?” Byeongkwan’s demeanour shifts abruptly; he quickly starts scanning Donghun’s face, as though it may be written across his forehead.

“Telepathy,” he replies. “But-”

“Oh my god, no fucking way!” Byeongkwan says a little too loudly, blind to the several heads that turn their way. He leans forward in his chair. “What’s my favourite colour?”

Donghun looks at him incredulously. “Orange.”

“No way, you really are telepathic! That’s so much cooler than my power.” Byeongkwan sinks back in his chair in mild disappointment. Donghun takes a sip of his coffee to recompose himself. “Okay, I’m thinking of a number, what is-”

“Please let me talk,” Donghun begs. “It’s a serious topic. I’ll literally buy you five cups of coffee for you to listen to me for this entire conversation.”

“And a croissant. Then deal.”

Donghun rolls his eyes. Sighs. Runs his fingers through his hair. Suddenly, he looks exhausted. A little lost.

“It’s about your parents.”

Byeongkwan stops for a split second, hand stuttering from where he’s drawing patterns on the wooden table. The hesitation lasts only a split second, followed by a nervous peal of laughter.

“I don’t live with them, I can’t answer any questions you have,” he says quickly, avoiding Donghun’s eyes.

Donghun backtracks a little. “It’s not what you think. I’m not here to ask you questions about them. That’s none of my business.”

“You’re telepathic. I’m sure you already know everything anyway.” Byeongkwan frowns at the table, all previous brightness gone in an instant, like flicking off a light switch. “What, you gonna have us all arrested now?”

“That’s not how my power works,” Donghun explains. “I don’t just instantly know everything. I can choose what I read, and I haven’t read your thoughts once, you can trust me on that. It’s far too invasive to do without proper reason to.” He waits for Byeongkwan to look up, waits for the tiny flicker of curiosity to reemerge in his eyes, before continuing. “Actually, I don’t know that much. What I do know is from research. I actually came to ask you something.”

Byeongkwan tilts his head a little, processing the words. “Ask me something?” he mumbles. The coffee soaked into his sleeves is going cold. Absentmindedly, he rolls his sleeves up. “Go ahead.”

“You don’t have to answer or anything, but you left your parents, right? Did you not agree with what they were doing?”

Byeongkwan visibly shifts in his seat. He doesn’t look uncomfortable per-se, but, even without remotely trying, Donghun can pick up nervous, whirling thoughts, pouring out from the other in waves.

“I know you probably spent a long time not being able to talk about this, but you can now, if you want.” Donghun hasn’t touched his americano in ages, turning the cup in little circles on the table to slow and organise his thoughts. Byeongkwan watches him do this for a while, before finally looking up.

“They’re not good people,” he says. He knows this is obvious, glaringly so, but Donghun nods anyway. “I’ve always known that. I have a sister… I think she always knew, too. But she did better than me. At going along with it, I mean.” For a moment, he smiles a little, shows a row of teeth. “My first step was getting away from it, even if I was enough of a coward that it took me that long.”

“You’re not a coward,” is the first thing Donghun says. He looks at Byeongkwan seriously. “None of that was fair on you. The fact that you left really shows that you’re the opposite of a coward.” He pauses. Takes the lid off of his coffee. Takes some of the little milk cups and sugar packets on the table and dumps them in the coffee, before putting the lid back on and sliding it over to Byeongkwan. His smile slips into a grin, and Donghun considers it an accomplishment.

“Listen, you don’t have to say yes, so don’t feel obligated by any means, but… I’ve been talking to another guy, a healer. He’s been helping me look into other powered people. I wasn’t sure if I should ask you, but he said it’d be a good idea.” Byeongkwan is looking at Donghun with something akin to absolute confusion, lifting the coffee up to his lips. “There are a lot of small crime cases - and bigger ones, actually - that are overlooked by the police. Powered people have a lot of bad rep, but I think we could really do some good in the right circumstances…” Byeongkwan is staring at Donghun with owlish eyes now, coffee forgotten and hovering half way between the table and his mouth.

“You’re starting a vigilante crew,” he says.

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it like that-”

“You’re making your own fucking superhero comic,” Byeongkwan continues. He puts the coffee back on the table, mouth wavering in an attempt to hold back laughter. It’s as though Donghun had flicked the switch back on, humour lighting up his eyes.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Donghun says, but the corners of his mouth are pulling up into a smile. After a moment, Donghun adds in a quieter voice, “Do you wanna be a superhero?”

It sounds ridiculous. It _ is _ ridiculous. But, behind the jokes and now-lighthearted atmosphere, he can see Byeongkwan sitting a little taller, can almost see the gratification creeping into his features.

It makes him think this means a lot more to Byeongkwan than he’s letting on.

 

(“Wait, if you didn’t read my thoughts, how did you know my favourite colour was orange?” Byeongkwan asks, poking an accusatory finger in Donghun’s direction.

“Your hair is literally a traffic cone. Lucky guess,” Donghun deadpans, swiping away Byeongkwan’s hand.)


End file.
